Dirndl, Dress of Past, Makes a Comeback in Bavaria

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/09/29/world/europe/dirndl-dress-of-past-makes-a-comeback-in-bavaria.html

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MUNICH, Germany — If there is one thing that Claudia Nowka understands, it is the desire of every woman to stand out at Oktoberfest. Nine years ago, dreading that she might sit down at a beer table only to see another woman wearing the same low-cut, tightly laced, traditional Bavarian dress, she designed her own dirndl in red satin, topped with a colorful apron.

That proved her first step to becoming what some here joke is the fastest growing profession in Munich: the dirndl designer.

Long considered the dusty uniform of an older, more conservative generation, the erstwhile dress of the Alpine regions of Bavaria and Austria has become a wildly popular symbol of the good times and good life of Germany’s most prosperous region. This is especially apparent during the two weeks of Oktoberfest, which ends Oct. 6, where a dirndl (pronounced DURN-dul) for women and its male counterpart, lederhosen for men, have become must-have outfits. “Ten years ago, nobody was wearing dirndl and lederhosen to Oktoberfest,” said Thomas Andersch, a Munich native who recently wore his knee-length leather trousers and a traditional shirt to the office so he would be ready to attend a pre-Oktoberfest festival after work. “Now it looks strange if you show up in jeans.”

But designers and ethnologists say dirndls are more than just a costume for the beer tents. Simone Egger, an assistant professor of European ethnology at the University of Munich, sees the revived popularity of the dirndl among young people as a reflection of the confidence of a new generation of Germans who are turning to tradition to define themselves in the face of the encroachments of globalization.

“It has now become standard for every Bavarian to have traditional clothing in their wardrobe, and from here it has simply expanded,” she said. “Everyone wears them.”

There are no associations that track numbers in the industry, but one of the largest makers of traditional Bavarian clothing, Angermaier, said it sold about 16,000 dirndls last year, a 750 percent jump from 2002.

In many ways, the symbolism of the dirndl has not changed over the decades. The dresses first began appearing in rural regions of Bavaria and neighboring Austria in the 1800s. In the first half of the 20th century, versions of the traditional peasant dresses were introduced into Munich’s fashion scene as leisure wear for wealthy women.

After the war, many people rejected the clothing for political reasons, if not its lingering associations with the Nazi party, then at least with the conservative bent of the local branch of Chancellor Angela Merkel’s Christian Democrats, the Bavaria-only Christian Social Union. But today even that stigma appears to have lifted. Jörg Hittenkofer, a co-owner and designer of the Gottseidank dirndl label, said a member of the left-leaning Green Party who had long refused to wear traditional clothing recently paid a visit to his shop.

“Everyone is longing for a world that is intact,” said Mr. Hittenkofer, whose modern dirndls hark back to the traditional dresses, with an emphasis on longer hemlines, higher, more modest necklines and locally produced fabrics hand-sewn in Europe. Most of his clients range in age from 20 to 40 years old, he said, and are fashion conscious and politically more left-leaning than the dirndl devotees of previous generations. “This generation is incredibly conservative,” he said. “Many struggle for orientation in the globalized world, but discover they are able to find themselves in traditional clothes.”

As if on cue, a young man assessing the fit of a pair of lederhosen in the Gottseidank shop looked up from admiring the stitching on the leg to ask if those sewing it had been paid a fair wage.

Kathrin Hollmer’s first pink-and-white dirndl was a gift from her grandmother when she was a 5-year-old growing up in the Bavarian countryside. Now 25, she is part of the generation that helped bring the dresses back into vogue. Ms. Hollmer owns seven dirndls, including three vintage dresses she found in secondhand stores.

“For me the dirndl has always been associated with good times, and with a feeling of home,” she said. “I always wore one on happy occasions, a relative’s birthday, to celebrations in church; whenever something nice happened.”

Something of a traditionalist, she shies away from the flashier dirndls that have become popular in recent years, with spangled aprons or leopard prints; she is attracted by more traditional royal blue or red bodices and skirts, with blouses that have a less revealing neckline, or even a collar.

The dirndl saw a minor revival with the 1972 Munich Olympics, when the hostesses wore light blue ones as their official uniforms. The dress captured the international imagination as something synonymous with all of Germany, to the chagrin of Germans from Cologne, Hamburg or Berlin.

Even today not everyone in Munich is a fan. The Cafe Kosmos near the main train station has made a name for itself in recent years as a no-go zone for anyone dressed in dirndl, lederhosen or other traditional clothes.

But especially since the flag-waving festival of Germanness that accompanied the country’s turn at hosting the 2006 World Cup, the popularity of the costume has continued to grow, with more and more designers cropping up to feed demand, said Ms. Egger, the Munich ethnologist.

That is where designers like Ms. Nowka fit in. Since 2007, her Alpenmädel line of designer dirndls has produced frothy confections of brightly colored raw silk skirts bedecked with aprons of imported English lace or decorated with hand-stitched rhinestone swirls, turning the erstwhile peasant dresses into an individual fashion statement. “In the beginning, each dress I made was unique,” said Ms. Nowka, whose dirndls run from about $540 to $950. “But that led to many disappointed customers if we didn’t have their size.” Now she makes each version in a variety of sizes, but helps her clients customize their look through different aprons, ribbons or this year’s hottest accessory, a hat.

The surging demand has also resulted in waves of mass-produced dirndls and lederhosen that sell for as little as $40 to $95 in chain stores and even supermarkets, flooding the market leading up to Oktoberfest. Although denounced by many as a degradation of tradition, Ms. Nowka said she believed the opposite. “Not everyone can afford a designer dirndl, so it helps introduce young people with little money to the tradition, and once they have a job, they buy a higher-end dirndl,” she said.

Dirndl traditions continue to evolve. Take the bow. Shopkeepers often tell customers that if a woman wears her apron strings tied on the left, it signals that she is single. A bow worn to the right means she is already in a relationship. “When a dressmaker whispers this to a customer, they have the feeling they are getting insider information,” Ms. Egger said. “So it has become tradition, although it has no actual roots in the history of the dirndl.”